The Grand Scheme Of Things

I've realised while I'm in New York how small I am. Not height wise (although, I guess  at 5 foot 3 inches I should be used to it,) but in the grand scheme of things. How small the Statue of Liberty is in the grand scheme of things. How small this hustling, vast city is in the grand scheme of things.

I lead a completely insignificant life in the grand scheme of things. The woman walking her dog on the pavement next to me does as well. So does the boy who called me a "slutty whore" because I didn't take a copy of his mix-tape in Times Square. Nothing we really say, or do, matters. In the grand scheme of things, at least.

I have the audacity to think that my writing is going to change the world. That I'll write a book and have the same affect on someone else as my favourite authors have had on me. I have the audacity to think my photography is going to shape the way someone sees the world, how they see people and colours and places. 

In the grand scheme of things, I am a speck. A tiny speck of dust that just so happens to have brown hair and brown eyes and too many freckles. 

But I am also someone's daughter. I am someone's cousin, niece, grandchild, best friend, and auntie. I am someone. 

I smiled at the woman walking her dog because she looked miserable with how cold the city was, and for a moment I was someone to her. The girl who smiled at her in Manhattan. 

In the grand scheme of things, yes, I am no one. I am completely happy with being no one. If one day something I write makes an impact on someone then so be it, I'll be happy. If my photography moves someone to think, 'wow, I want to visit that place.' then I'll be happy. 

In the grand scheme of my life? I am a vital organ.

See you next time, then. 

Ree xo